


The Fiddler's Green

by lonelygaysailors



Series: The Fiddler's Green Series [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate History, Historical, M/M, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelygaysailors/pseuds/lonelygaysailors
Summary: Harold "Hal" Turner is fresh out of school and, with enough familial debt to drag you down to hell, decides to enlist in the Royal British Navy. This sounds like a great idea! Being right off the high from winning the Napoleonic wars, as well as the war of 1812, the risks of getting into a firefight on the open ocean are very low. But... He has never been on a ship before. Not even a rowboat. He also hated fish. The man had grown up the Welsh countryside and had an English degree. Let's see him get his sea legs (and meet the love of his life while he's at it.)
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Fiddler's Green Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116731
Kudos: 3





	The Fiddler's Green

**Author's Note:**

> Editing history a little so I can be gay and exclusionary without feeling horrible. People were very much Racist as hell, I just want a funky little story about gay sailors without it ending in trauma and sadness. If this bothers you, I completely understand, I'm just tired of tragedies. Basically pirates of the Caribbean levels of historical accuracy, although I am doing research.

An Introduction 

I have never been a complicated man. In fact, I have prided myself on my humble origins and simple tastes, desiring only my books, a good cup of tea, a sturdy pair of shoes, and a good place to explore. I was always trying to see as much as I could, so when I found myself in some debt, the navy seemed the obvious choice. Regardless of the fact that I could barely swim and had never been aboard a boat, I thought it was a bang up idea. It turned out to have some mixed results, but I regret absolutely none of it. 

November 10th, 1809 

I have finally put strength behind my words and joined up with the Royal British Navy this morning. My heart is heavy with the thought of leaving behind my home, but my mind is all awhirl with thoughts of where I may end up and the adventures I might find. Though I must admit, there is such a certain nervousness that comes with branching out so far all at once. I have never even gone as far as Scotland, and now suddenly I am leaving the whole country behind me. It feels rather like I am standing at the edge of a cliff, or a particularly large hill, and it is time for me to make a leap of faith. I have plenty of hope, but a healthy sense of apprehension, I believe. 

I will be embarking on my voyage in a month or so, weather fairing. I have already packed my things, including, upon my uncle’s suggestion, a German food called “Sour Crout.” It is said to keep very well and help to keep you in good health while at sea. I believe that was discovered by the infamous Captain Cook, so I do suppose that is one good thing he has contributed to the world. 

Yours,   
H. Turner 

November 12th, 1809 

So as I thought, my father was quite pleased with my decision. Although he seems to think it will somehow “make me into a man.” I must ask, if the navy will turn me into a real man, what am I now? I have not been a boy for quite some time, it has been two long years since my fifteenth birthday, and if I am not a man and not a boy I must ask who I am. I do not feel unlike a man, although I will admit I do not know what else I could be. I am certainly not a woman. Perhaps my coming adventure will show me what I seem to be missing. Twenty Eight Days remains. 

I think I will go out for a walk across the moors across the fields again tomorrow, there is an interesting patch of trees that needs someone to poke through it. 

Yours,   
H. Turner


End file.
